


you can borrow my heart too

by smallbump



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:14:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4535766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbump/pseuds/smallbump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the day connor leaves australia, everything’s a bit upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can borrow my heart too

“This is moving too fast,” Troye stumbles over the words, hurries them out of his mouth, shrinking himself where he sits on the bed. Almost like he didn’t want to say them but felt like he needed to.

In the middle of the room, Connor is glued to the floor, his feet unable to move him anywhere when all he wants to do is run. Staring down at Troye, he’s unsure how to react. “You could’ve mentioned you feel that way before I booked my flights, the ones we both agreed on.”

Connor knew something was coming, it had been a tense day, before he even opened his eyes this morning, because when he did, Troye hadn’t been beside him, he wasn’t there to wake him up with kisses and whisper good morning with arms wrapped around his waist, like all other mornings, so Connor knew today was going to be different. Bad different. And it had been, Troye had distanced himself completely, at first Connor figured it was because he was going home and it would be a while until next time they would see each other, but in a way, it just didn’t make sense for him.  
So he tried to go back to how they were before, how they were supposed to be. He held Troye’s hand for no reason other than holding it, and he kissed his cheeks numerous times, kissed the back of his head while Troye made them lunch. Connor expected smiles back, kisses back, he expected to get the love back but there had been nothing.  
Troye cleared his throat and moved over, barely glancing at Connor’s way. 

And now everything had gone from bad to horrible in a matter of minutes. He almost regrets asking Troye what was wrong in the first place, even though he knew he had to. Connor knew he couldn’t leave Australia without knowing why Troye had been acting the way he had, he couldn’t leave Troye knowing something was wrong. 

“I changed my mind.”

“When?! After these past days or what? You should’ve told me right away and I would have gone somewhere else,” Connor’s raised voice makes Troye flinch a little. 

Troye blinks slowly, like he’s rolling his eyes but doesn’t fully commit, maybe he doesn’t want it to show, “Where would you even go?”  
  
“I don’t know!”

 _Does it really matter? Do you even care?_ Connor wants to shout but the door isn’t fully closed and the walls aren’t made of stone. This is not a fight Troye’s whole family need to be a part of.  
Instead he begins to cry. He doesn’t know where to go if not to Troye. Home suddenly feels like it’s millions of miles away and he will never get there again. Home is suddenly not where Troye is. And he’s crying, because he doesn’t have anywhere to go because Troye’s arms are folded, not out-stretched. Because downstairs, everyone is on Troye’s side, even he is but it doesn’t count. Doesn’t matter anymore.  
And Connor cries because they’re about to say goodbye, _or was about to say goodbye,_ but instead got into a fight and he cries because he doesn’t know if he will be kissing Troye any time soon and the mere thought of it makes him sick. He’s not even hiding it, the sobs echo through the room and Troye’s eyes has left him a long time, just like his hands did hours ago. It’s as if he doesn’t even notice Connor’s tears.

Instead, Troye says he should go, his flight is soon. Troye says he’ll miss it otherwise and Connor figures that would be the end of the world.  
Because then they would have to spend more time together, and that’s the last thing Troye wants, right?

He sighs when Connor blurts it out, says it’s not true, and says he’s overreacting. Troye is not crying, but his voice breaks a little and it gives Connor a bad feeling in his stomach. He’s looking at his boyfriend who is staring at his toes and wonders what drove them here. After weeks and weeks of being apart, being close is suddenly too close.

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispers, voice hoarse and low, not really sure what it is that he is apologising for but he can’t think of anything else to say at the moment. He feels guilty without even knowing why. 

The silence makes him want to cry again.

The rest of Troye’s family is out in the garden so Connor hurries through the house and out the door. The house he had felt so comfortable in was now giving him shivers all the way down his spine. He doesn’t have to look back and see if someone is behind him, the silence says it all.

In the taxi to the airport, he texts his mom, even if it’ll cost him ten times as much as if he had waited until he is in LA. He tells her that he might come home soon. She’d like that, she replies far too quickly and the teardrops on Connor’s cheeks have dried out by the time he steps out of the car outside of the airport.

With a deep breath and his luggage in one hand, he leaves the sunny city behind him, looking back in reflex but the only thing he sees is the taxi driving away, not Troye waving at him with a sad smile on his face like all the other times and if he didn’t hate airports before, he does now.

The queue to the baggage drop takes him fifteen minutes to get through and to stay distracted from his own thoughts, Connor eavesdrop on the couple in front of him, arguing about having to pay extra for their luggage. It’s not the most interesting conversation he’s heard but it’ll do until it’s his turn to check in.  
Somehow it oddly makes him feel a little better, that he is not the only one in a fight right now.

The line to security check is even longer, he hates it. Can’t stand being around so many people right now, can’t stand the laughter and happy words. When Connor is sad, he wishes everyone else could be sad too, so that it would be easier for him to process it. However, that is not how it works and he has to listen to the small group of excited teenage girls that are going abroad. They gush over all the hot guys they’re going to see, and he wants to tell them _‘don’t bother, they’re no better’._

The vibration in his pocket catches his focus instead, and Troye’s face is all over his screen. After staring at it for a few seconds, he figures that he wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t to make things better. So he answers, or is about to, Troye interrupts his quiet hello.

“Where are you?!” Connor doesn’t quite recognise the desperate, panic voice that Troye is speaking in, so he doesn’t really know how to react because the Troye he left behind earlier had been calm and quiet and not desperate like this. Not desperate after Connor.  
There’s a feeling of slight relief rushing through his body hearing this voice, it’s probably stupid but he wants Troye to be desperate for him sometimes. He wants Troye to want him; to need him. It’s always the other way around and Connor is left doubtful at times. He is needy, whether he likes it or not.

“Security check,” Connor says in a quiet voice. He’s about the tenth in line to show his boarding card. The screaming baby behind him is slowly giving him a headache, along with the tears he is fighting to hold back.

“Don’t go inside, I’m almost there,” 

Troye speaks fast, almost stumbles over the words. 

“I–” 

“Connor!” Troye shouts at him, like he’s about to do something he is absolutely not allowed to do. “I’m literally outside, please, I need to see you.”

Through the phone, Connor hears a car door closing and the muffled noise of people as Troye walks in to the airport.

He’s now fourth in line, pressing the phone to his ear. He sees the couple that was arguing in front of him at the check in, they’re now standing close, laughing together as the girl takes out her laptop and right before the guy walks through the metal detector, their hands let go of each other. It seems like they’ve forgotten all about the heated argument they had only minutes earlier, even as serious as it had seemed. Connor thinks back to when he was in Troye’s room, standing in the middle of it, with tear-filled eyes and a boyfriend who was looking away. It’s fixable, is what he thinks next. They can work it out, they can get past this. It’s not too late.

  
“Connor!” Troye says in his ear again, still in that desperate, panicky voice.

 

He swallows, “Okay.”

 

“I fucked up, I fucked up so bad, I know. I got scared, scared of losing you and I thought if we didn’t move so fast it’d hurt less but.” He can hear Troye swallow and sniffle, breathing in once and twice and Connor is patiently waiting for him to say something else.

 

“Fuck, I love you Connie. And I want to be with you, as much as I can. Because I won’t lose you right?”

 

He shakes his head, squinting his eyes shut. “No.” Opening his eyes, he’s met by a sympatique smile from the girl checking the boarding cards and Connor immediately gets out of the queue.

 

Leaving the queue for the security check gets a few people to turn their heads. Connor makes his way towards the entrance of the airport, he listens to Troye’s apologises, he says he’s sorry over and over again, says he loves Connor and that he doesn’t know what got into his head. Connor doesn’t know either. Doesn’t want to know, if he’s honest but he leaves that out of the conversation. He’d rather say as little as possible right now.

People are standing in little groups here and there with their suitcases by their feet, talking excitedly or giving out sad hugs and Connor is sick-sacking his way through them. 

“Okay,” he says again. There’s no time to say anything else as he’s in front of Troye now. Troye who swings his arms around Connor and buries his face in the crook of his neck, muffled sobs are only audible if he listens closely and Connor realises it’s the first time he has seen Troye cry because of him. 

He takes Troye to him, wraps his arms around the younger tightly. _Let them stare_ , he thinks and closes his eyes as he leans his head against Troye’s shoulder. Let them fucking stare. It feels too good to have Troye in his arms for him to care. They’re together again, holding each other tight and saying goodbye the way they should. It almost makes him laugh, thinking about earlier.  
Breathing in Troye’s scent, the distinct smell of _his_ shampoo is making him realise where all his shampoo and soap had gone, the bottles had been empty within days without explanation. Tears leave his eyes only to stick against Troye’s sweater, drying them up in seconds and it’s only then that he realises which sweater Troye is wearing; a grey one with the American flag painted in black. Smiling into Troye’s shoulder, he hugs him tighter and Troye tightens his embrace as well.  
Maybe it was the sweater that made Troye have a change of heart. 

“Fuck, don’t ever do that again, you really scared me.” Connor mumbles and Troye breathes out a shaky laugh.  
  
“I won’t.”

Just as he is about to say I’m sorry, just because, there must have been something he did, Troye speaks before him, “Don’t you dare apologise,” he whispers, like he can read Connor’s thoughts, and quite frankly, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Sometimes Connor thinks Troye knows him better than he knows himself, if the version of him Troye knows is more real than the one he’s got in his head. He leaves a few kisses on Troye’s neck, slowly and surely, making the most of their last hug for a while.

Connor thinks it’s definitely been fifteen minutes or so and he should go or he will miss his flight and even though it won’t be the end of the world anymore, it’s not exactly ideal for his bank account right now. As he lets go, Troye doe the same and there’s space between them that neither is too excited about.  
The red, puffy eyes that are blinking at him makes Connor’s heart ache and his eyebrows to frown and it’s quite difficult to smile all of the sudden.

“I have to go,” he says matter-of-factly, to say something, to keep himself steady.

“Right, okay. Well. I love you.”

Connor swallows, drags one hand through his hair rather uncomfortably, “Love you too.” It comes out as a whisper before he captures Troye’s lips with his, one hand on the back of his head.

“Oh, and Troye? You can totally borrow my sweater, it’s fine,” he says and genuinely smiles for the first time since yesterday, with Troye leaning against his forehead with a rather guilty blush covering his cheeks. He looks pretty like this.

Before Troye kisses him, he says, “It looks better on me anyway.”

Connor agrees, “It does.”

They’ll talk about what happened earlier another time, or he’s going to miss his flight.


End file.
